


Leon in Camelot

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 10:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: Leon is busier than ever, after Camlann – trying to make up for the loss of so many dear friends.





	Leon in Camelot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [altocello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altocello/gifts), [whimstories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimstories/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Arthur in Avalon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526545) by [altocello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altocello/pseuds/altocello), [harlequin (julie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin). 

> **Notes:** A companion piece to my **After Camlann 2019** big bang fic, **Arthur in Avalon**. Not meant to be taken _too_ seriously, but then again when did I ever write anything that wasn’t sincere? 
> 
> Humbly offered with gratitude to my awesome artist **altocello** and my beta-reader **whimstories**. 

# Leon in Camelot 

♦

Leon’s arms were full, and by the time he reached the top of the tower he was a little – just a very little – out of breath, so he was relieved to discover that the door to Gaius’s chamber was already propped wide open. “Hello, Gaius,” he called cheerily as he stepped inside. 

Gaius popped out from behind some complicated arrangement of glassware, stands and steaming liquids that took up most of a table. “Hello, Leon,” he replied. “A pleasure to see you, as always.”

“I’ve brought you those herbs you needed,” Leon said, beginning to unburden himself item by item. Gaius had approached to help him, but Leon placed the basket on a nearby bench instead – and then plucked a small bunch of wildflowers from on top of the herbs, and proffered them to the old man. “These are for you as well,” Leon said – “from an admirer,” he added with a wink.

Gaius’s expression was half ironic frown and half smile of delight.

“Maybe the flowers are medicinal after all, for they certainly put some colour in your cheeks!”

“Oh, Leon,” Gaius chided in fond tones, “what nonsense you talk!” He very carefully put the flowers into a tankard of water, though, arranging them to best show off their varied shapes and colours. The tankard was then placed on a table near the fire, which had been set for a solitary meal. 

Gaius paused for a moment with the fingertips of one hand resting gently on the table’s timeworn surface. After due consideration, he lifted his gaze to Leon’s. “Would you care to join me for supper?” he asked rather diffidently. “I don’t have much to offer –”

“I’d love to! Thank you.” Leon joined him, and unloaded the last of his burdens. “I brought you some bread fresh from the ovens, and two apples baked in honey for afters.”

“Leon, you are very good to me,” Gaius said quite solemnly. 

“No better than you deserve,” Leon countered. And on his way past to fetch an extra set of crockery and cutlery, he dropped a kiss to the top of the old man’s head. 

♦

An hour later, Leon was walking towards the door of the Queen’s private chambers. The guards at the end of the corridor had hardly even glanced at him, let alone challenged him. Were they under orders from the Queen not to bar his way, or were they so accustomed to Leon’s presence given that he’d also closely served Camelot’s two previous kings – or did they simply consider him harmless? Leon suspected he should find out the answer, for the sake of the security of the royal household. It wouldn’t do for anyone to become complacent.

“Come in,” Guinevere called in answer to his knock – and she smiled broadly when she saw, as she must have expected, Leon opening the door and stepping inside. She was dressed ready for bed in a fine long silk gown, with an extra robe wrapped around her for modesty and for warmth. She looked lovely. Maybe it was due to the candles and the firelight, but it was as if she herself _shone_.

“Good evening, my lady,” Leon smoothly greeted her.

“How are you, Leon?” 

“All the better for being with you, my liege.”

She made a happy sound, a scoffing chuckle, as he’d known she would. Guinevere’s repertoire of laughter had been familiar to him since they were children together, growing up in Leon’s family home. 

These evening visits had become familiar, too. Guinevere sat, as Arthur had always done, in a chair by the fireplace, taking the opportunity of these last quiet moments to consider the day and all it had brought. Leon knew that as Arthur’s Queen, as his wife, she had listened to him and helped to talk matters through. Helped to make sense of the day and to anticipate what the next day might bring. Occasionally they had sent for Leon to ask for his thoughts. Now that Guinevere ruled in her own right, Leon tried as best he could to continue supporting her just as she’d supported Arthur.

Leon sat down in the chair placed across from her, and stretched out his legs to warm his feet by the fire. Once he was settled, she asked with no preamble, “You saw the reports of the storms near Appledore and Dingle?”

“Yes, my lady. There was a patrol due to head in that direction in the next few days, but I could send them tomorrow instead … ? Along with a few extra men and women, perhaps. I’ll ask for volunteers. I don’t think there’s been much damage caused – or not yet – but they can be there to help as needed.”

“Just what I’d hoped for. Thank you, Leon.” She nodded an acknowledgement of their shared understanding, before continuing, “Do you remember telling me about the new fighting styles developing in the Western Isles, and on the Continent?”

“Yes, I do.” He sat up a bit straighter.

“I’ve had some ideas about opening up the next tournament, adding more events. Maybe we can include some demonstrations of the changing skills, if our allies will agree. I’m sure it was on your mind that it won’t do for us to specialise in the sword and the joust for ever more.”

“No,” he agreed, “we must adapt.” 

They talked through her ideas and developed them, and he added one or two of his own, until they were both satisfied that they had a good plan. “I’ll recommend it at the next Council meeting,” Guinevere concluded, “if you’ll speak to the details. There would be no one better than you to guide the changes.”

“Of course I’d be happy to, my liege, if you command it. Thank you.” He let a moment or two drift by, in which she didn’t raise any other issues. Then he asked, as he always did, “Is there anything else, my lady?”

To which she sometimes replied, ‘No, thank you, Leon. Good night.’ And at other times she replied, as she did that night, “Yes, Leon.”

He stood, and quietly barred the door. And then he strode over to her, and swept her up in his arms. A moment later he sat her on the side of her bed, and knelt on the rug at her feet. His hands shaped themselves to her bare ankles and then slowly slid up her shapely legs, enjoying every length and subtle curve. The silk of her gown and robe bunched up across his arms, heavy and rich, but he kept going until his hands were clasped on her hips, and he could see her sweet vulva waiting for him, the v of dark curls parting only slightly at the point to reveal a hint of rosy flesh.

Leon glanced up at her again, giving her a chance to change her mind, but also loving the fact that she always gazed back at him steadily, acknowledging him. The ghosts of other lives and lost loves sometimes pressed in upon them, but she was his dear friend Guinevere and he was her right-hand man Leon, and in these moments she seemed content that it should be so. 

Their mutual gaze held for a long moment, and then he pushed in and pressed a kiss to her sex, let his tongue wriggle through to find her dearest treasure. She moaned a little, under her breath, but that was enough to set him and his hunger free. 

He never touched her with anything but his tongue and his lips, with his hands framing her hips – he never did anything more than this, just this – but it was enough for him. It was exquisite. As pulses of pleasure ran through her, and soft groans fell from her lips, Leon was proud to know she thought it exquisite, too. 

♦

It wasn’t very late when Leon at last arrived in the knights’ hall, but the fire had been allowed to dwindle to glowing embers, and there were only a few quiet men still gathered companionably around it. Leon nodded a “good night” to them, acknowledged their greetings with a lifted hand – and didn’t hesitate in his stride towards Percival’s room. 

Percival, being the largest of them all, was the only knight to boast a bed wide enough for two in his room – which was a matter of great amusement to the other men, as Percival was also the most innocent of them all. Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t frequently have company overnight. 

When Leon knocked quietly and let himself in, he found Percival already lying in bed with the covers drawn up to his waist, though he was only half asleep. When Percival opened his eyes, Leon threw him his very best roguish grin – and Percival’s smile blossomed poignantly. He patted the bed beside him, which was all the invitation that Leon required. 

Leon stripped off his outer layers of clothes, and then tumbled into the bed with his back to Percival, who gathered Leon up in his huge embrace and curled around him. Safely, snugly held in such undemanding warmth, Leon listened for a few moments as Percival’s breathing softened and slowed … and then with no further ado, Leon followed his friend into untroubled dreams. 

♦

“I very much appreciate the company, Leon,” Gaius said over another shared supper, “but you don’t have to make up for Merlin’s absence.”

“Make _up_ for it?” Leon cried out in mock astonishment. “What nonsense! I’m making _the most_ of it.” 

“It’s very kind of you, my friend, but –”

“Now that he’s no longer hogging _all_ your attention,” Leon added with a wink.

Gaius shook his head in fond disbelief.

♦

“_Yes_, Leon,” said Guinevere – but before he could stand to go bar the door, she held out a hand to stop him. 

“My lady … ?”

She grimaced a little, as she often did when searching for the right words. Finally she said, “Leon, I hope you never feel obliged to do … anything you wouldn’t _choose_ to do.”

“Never, my Queen,” he averred. “I live to serve you.”

She smiled a little, almost shyly, with dusky roses blooming behind her drift of cinnamon freckles. “Then … yes, Leon. Please.”

♦

“Leon,” said Percival, his voice a low rumble that Leon could feel against his nape, tucked up so closely together as they were. “You don’t have to … humour me, like Gwaine did.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t a matter of humouring you,” Leon quietly replied. 

A brief silence. “Indulging me, then. Never himself.”

Leon wriggled around a little further onto his back so that he could see more of the other man – and though Percival tucked further in with his mouth against Leon’s shoulder, he met Leon’s gaze steadily enough. Leon asked, “Did he never ask for more?”

“We never got that far,” Percival whispered sadly. “We would have, though, at last.” 

“Of course,” Leon murmured in reassurance.

Percival sighed. “I thought he was waiting for me, and I was glad of it. But now I think that – he shouldn’t have waited.”

Leon gave their shared grief its due for a long moment, and then he lifted up just far enough to press a kiss to Percival’s forehead. “You let me know when,” Leon promised, before snuggling back into the warm all-encompassing embrace, just as contentedly as Gwaine must have done. 

“_When_ …” 

But the word drifted away into the peaceful rhythm of sleep, and Leon followed Percival down with a smile. 

♦

“You’re looking rather splendid this evening, Gaius!” Leon declared. He took a moment to consider the man’s long lustrous silver locks. “Your hair looks lovely. As if you’re standing in a moonbeam.”

Gaius’s cheeks went pink and his gaze lowered with bashful pleasure. “Then it works!” he responded. He reached for a small bottle of potion waiting beside the two supper settings. “I made this for you to use in your hair – your beautiful hair,” he added, looking up at Leon affectionately. “You are a ray of sunshine in our lives, Leon. Not that you need _this_ to make that obvious to everyone in Albion.”

“You are too kind to me.” Leon reached for the bottle – and caught Gaius’s hand in both of his, bent over it to press a kiss to the inside of the man’s wrist.

Gaius lifted his other hand, and wouldn’t let Leon go until he’d returned the gesture. “_You_ are the kind one, Leon, with all your gallantry.” He smiled with gentle contentment up at Leon. “Thank you. You do my old heart so much good.”

♦

“How diligent you are!” Guinevere declared. “Leon, I have to thank you for all your good advice on the apple harvest and the autumn markets. Everyone is working together perfectly now – and I only realised today how much effort you must have put in to understanding the problems.”

Leon grinned at her. “I’m delighted that it’s worked out so happily, my lady.”

“I sent a bushel of apples to Queen Annis to please her … and to boast of Camelot’s riches, I admit.” Guinevere smiled with a hint of mischief kicking up one corner of her mouth. “I saved the best of the apples for you, though …”

He took the apple she handed over and, holding her gaze, bit into its crisp flesh. Juice wet his lips and chin, and he didn’t bother wiping if off. “Delicious …” Leon murmured. He let a breath go by, loving the warmth in her dark eyes, and then he asked, “Is there anything more I can do for you this evening, my lady?”

“_Yes_, Leon. Yes, please.”

♦

“Would you take your tunic off tonight, Leon?” 

Percival spoke so softly that it took a moment for Leon to catch up with the words and their meaning. He paused in neatly folding his britches, and looked across to find Percival leaning up on an elbow, his skin bare at least as far down as his waist where the bedcovers had fallen. They considered each other for a long moment – and then Leon dropped the britches to the floor, and swept his tunic up and off over his head.

They shared a smile when Leon emerged again. The tunic was also let go to fall where it may, with none of Leon’s usual care. “And the rest?” Leon asked. 

Percival blushed charmingly. “If you like.”

“What about you? Would that be too much?”

“Not too much,” Percival whispered – though he averted his eyes as Leon stripped off his last layer of linen, and stepped towards the bed.

Leon would have lain down facing his friend, but Percival insisted on their usual arrangement, with the larger man stretched down Leon’s back and then curling up around him. Percival was naked, and his cock pressed hard and hot against Leon’s rear, prodding into the small of his back as they shifted restlessly, both too needy to settle. 

“Can I touch you?” Percival rumbled into Leon’s nape, before feathering kisses across his throat and shoulder. 

A pithy curse fell from Leon’s lips before he could gather himself. “Yes,” he managed to say, somewhat more chivalrously. “Yes, Percival. You can do as much or as little as you like.”

“Thank you – thank you – my friend.”

One strong arm holding him firmly against that glorious body, and Percival’s mouth roaming hungrily, while his other hand eased lower and lower … and at last gripped Leon’s cock with just the right amount of pressure. A shudder ran through Leon, and he reached back to grasp Percival’s thigh, to ensure that he would keep close – as if there were any question about that. Leon’s other hand helplessly shaped itself over Percival’s grip, encouraging him to move – and when Percival began a too-gentle rhythm of thrusts, Leon’s hand dived in frustration to grasp at his own balls. 

“By the gods,” Leon was muttering, “by all the gods …”

It seemed that Percival was as overwhelmed as Leon – he was muttering “my friend – my friend”, and thrusting against Leon in a more urgent rhythm than his hand was working, his breath ragged –

A moment later his crisis came, and he pushed half over onto Leon with a great loud cry – and this gorgeous feeling of being fully held, of being entirely comprehended by this dear sweet mountain of a man was enough to send Leon off, too. He thrust into that generous hand as best he could with Percival’s weight securing him, and he indulged himself in vocally sharing how utterly glorious it was. To give voice to such things was a pleasure in itself, and who cared for discretion? All the knights and most of the castle must have heard Percival, and Leon wanted them to know that the joy was mutual. 

They stilled at last, and then Percival pulled back, carefully bringing Leon up with him. “My friend – I’m sorry – did I hurt you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Leon replied in merry tones. “You’d better try again.”

Percival blinked, and then realised that Leon was feeling hale and hearty to the point of inappropriate hilarity. He beamed a smile, and his arms cradled Leon, and his mouth pressed kisses to whatever of Leon he could reach. “I will,” said Percival. “I _will_ try again and again – not to hurt you, but to love you. Whenever you feel like indulging me.”

“Which would probably be whenever you feel like being indulged.” Leon turned his head to share a smile, a kiss, a look of confidence in themselves and each other. “And so we had better get some sleep while we can, my friend, for we’ll need all the rest we can get!”

“Good night, then,” Percival said, pressing one last kiss to Leon’s hair before settling his head on the pillow. “Blessings on your dreams,” he murmured, already half asleep. 

“And on yours, my dear,” Leon whispered. _Good night_ …

♦

“What would we do without you?” Gaius asked. 

“I’m sure you’d get by,” Leon reassured him. He couldn’t help smiling – beaming, even – with his own happiness, with his joy in all the love with which he was blessed. Still, he didn’t flatter himself that he was essential –

“We might get by, perhaps. But we would not flourish. Without you, Leon, we’d be a sad dry old lot.”

Leon was sure that Gaius was clear-eyed enough to see all of Leon’s delighted satisfaction. It filled and overflowed him, and surely spilled into his friends’ lives, too. “I’m just so grateful, Gaius, for it’s my pleasure. It’s my pleasure to serve you all.”

♦


End file.
